


Lips

by Spyder



Category: Wanted (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spyder/pseuds/Spyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Eddie told Conrad that lips are lips, did Conrad get the message?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips

Lips are lips you tell him trying to ignore the flare of heat in his eyes before he turns away and laughs. You watch him for days after looking for signs that he understood what you were telling him but all he does is work and bitch and work some more, harder than everyone else as he always does. 

It is only after the job is done, the murderer dead, that you realise he is watching you when he thinks you are not looking. His eyes measure you, your arms, your shoulders, your ass, and this makes you want him even more.

What do you have to do, you wonder, to make him stop looking and actually do something? You want more than looking, you want his hands and mouth, his breath and his lust and that thick cock he makes no attempt to hide when you end up in the showers together - Jimmy or Tommy or Rodney there as always to make sure you behave and you wonder if he plans it that way just to drive you wild. 

Of course he fucking does.

Because you’ve seen the way he looks at you and you think you know what he wants. He wants to bend you over and hurt you and make you bleed and you know that’s what’s stopping him. 

Telling him that lips are lips isn’t enough to make him understand that you want to be bent over and hurt and made to bleed.

You dream about telling him. You lie awake restless, losing sleep because you don’t know how to. Being an asshole is easy. Telling Conrad Rose that you want him to own you is off the scale. You fuck women and make sure he knows it, desperate to drive him to do something about it but all he does is look when he thinks you don’t know.

Then one day you’re in the shower and there’s no Tommy or Jimmy or Rodney and before you realise what’s happened he has you by the hair and you’re on your knees and the only thing you can see is his cock, long and hard and just waiting for you.

“If I let you have this,” he says, voice almost disinterested, “what do I get in return?”

You don’t hesitate. “Anything you want.”

He nods. It is enough.

“Then do it.”

It’s big and it hurts your throat but you don’t care. You want it to hurt your ass. You suck with all the skill you have and when he comes it’s on your face not down your throat and you whine in protest, wanting to taste him so badly.

In perfect control he pulls you to your feet and kisses you, not caring that his come is messing up his face. He allows you to lick it off him.

When you’re done he tells you what he has in store for you later and you whine again. This time in desperation and you know that lips are not lips any more. 

Not now you’ve had his.


End file.
